


Two to Choose

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Kimi wa Pet | Tramps Like Us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-01
Updated: 2006-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:30:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1629218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sumire finally has to choose between her first love and her pet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two to Choose

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to apologize here if I got the type of nuts Momo likes wrong. I didnt' have access to my manga, and I couldn't find it anywhere. I'm sorry!
> 
> Written for ArmAndLeg

 

 

I'm the first to admit that I'm not very bright when it comes to women. My _younger brother_ had to point out to me how formal my relationship with Sumire was. I'm sure that I've missed other glaring signs of _something_.

But the thought of Sumire lying to me never even crossed my mind. I never believed that she could do anything like that to me. I believed that she loved me.

Until all of my illusions were dashed against the rocks, I believed that she was mine.

 

A coworker had given me tickets to Sumire's cousin's modern dance show when I came into town for the weekend unexpectedly. I hadn't been able to get a hold of Sumire, so I went to the show alone, hoping to catch her for a drink afterwards. She told me that she usually went to all of his performances, so I didn't think it would be hard to find her.

The show was incredible. Takeshi's ballet training showed in every movement, and he seemed to soar among the other dancers. I didn't see Sumire in the crowd, even at intermission, so when the curtain fell I headed backstage. I wasn't thinking about anything beyond asking Takeshi if he knew where she was, so I wasn't prepared to find her.

Especially in a small alcove alone with her cousin - they were standing close together, and my first instinct was not to interrupt. As I caught sight of them, Sumire was thrusting a bouquet of flowers at the boy. I hesitated, and ducked against the wall where they couldn't see me. I could still see them, and more importantly, hear them.

"Flowers again? Are you feeling guilty about something, Sumire-chan?" There was such a teasing, familiar tone to Takeshi's voice - my hands fisted, and I wasn't even sure why. No. I did know why. If I had said something similar, she'd have turned red, gotten embarrassed, and never really responded. We would have been awkward for an hour, neither of us saying anything. But for Takeshi, she smiled.

"Don't be ridiculous. What could I possibly feel guilty over? Forgetting the ginkgo nuts again?" She reached out and swiped at his cheek. "Missed some of the makeup."

"I'll live." He grinned at her. "You haven't done that in a long time. Forgotten the ginkgo nuts, I mean. You always make my food with such loving care."

She laughed - not the quiet, restrained laughter I usually heard, but a full, deep laugh. "And you're done much better about not trying to do any chores."

"I'll master dishes someday." He pouted at her, one hand fiddling with a flower.

"Why bother? I'm not complaining." She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and sighed.

"You're exhausted. Let me change real quick and we'll go home. I put Hitsuji-kun in the freezer before I left. And I set the VCR for the wrestling program."

"What about the after party?" She leaned against Takeshi as the short boy put his arm around her waist, and he shook his head, smiling.

"I'd rather go home and watch TV with you." His words made her smile, sigh with contentment. I'd never heard a sound like that from her before, and that hurt. Takeshi was treating her with the informality I longed for, and he wasn't getting stiff shoulders, blushes, and restraint. As they left the alcove, Takeshi paused, going up on tiptoe to press a kiss to Sumire's cheek. "I love my Sumire-chan, so of course I would rather be with her."

It was astounding. She didn't give him that angry look to warn him about public affection being inappropriate. Instead, she giggled (I wasn't even aware she knew how to giggle) and ruffled his hair. "Then let's go home." She walked with him towards the dressing rooms, and I followed behind. "How is it, Mo- Takeshi, that you always know just what to say to make me feel better?"

"That's my job, Sumire-chan. Making you happy." He opened the door to the dressing rooms and motioned for her to precede him. As the door shut behind them, I left. I didn't know what I would say to them, and I didn't want to take that contentment off of her face.

She never seemed relaxed around me. She didn't invite casual contact, either. Even when we were in bed together, she didn't seem to want to cuddle. Thinking back, though, she'd always touched Takeshi casually. At Christmas, she'd nearly started a wrestling match with the young man, and he'd fought her off with the ease of long practice.

Doubts, for the first time, were beginning to crowd my mind. After all, Takeshi always seemed to be around her apartment, or know exactly what was going on with her at any moment. Hadn't I originally come to see if he could tell me where she was? He was supposed to be her cousin, wasn't that normal for family?

Poisonous little thoughts were beginning to creep in. What if he weren't her cousin? What would that mean? Turning down a different street, I went back to the office. It wasn't prying to do a little research on a semi-famous dancer, after all.

 

An hour later, I wished that I hadn't. Gouda Takeshi was in no way related to the woman that I had been dating for over a year. He had no known address and was only loosely affiliated with the dance troupes he had been performing with in the area. The last article I found was a small blurb about a modern dance competition that he had received first prize for his original choreography he'd titled `Pet'. A fellow competitor was quoted as having heard Takeshi explain the dance as `the story of a young man in love with an older woman who had taken him in, and saw him as nothing more than her convenient pet, rather than a person.'

A sick feeling in my gut, I reached for the phone. Knowing that I should have left well enough alone, and that I shouldn't have pried, I dialed her number. She answered almost immediately. "Ms. Iwaya? I'm in town until tomorrow and wondered if you were up to getting a drink?"

She hesitated. "I'd love to see you, Hasumi-senpai, but I'm already in bed. I wasn't feeling very well today." Her voice seemed small; there was none of the fire she'd shown when it was just Takeshi with her.

"I see." It was my turn to hesitate. Did I dare say anything? "...I saw your cousin's performance tonight."

"Did you enjoy it?" Calm and cool, the tone of her voice didn't give anything away. If I hadn't seen her there, I would never have guessed that she'd attended as well.

"He's an amazing dancer." I ran a hand through my hair. "Ms. Iwaya, please...I - I saw you after the show. Backstage. I didn't mean to, but I was going to ask Takeshi if he knew where you were."

"Ah." Such a simple word. She didn't try to deny, or make excuses, or ask me anything.

"Are - what exactly is your relationship with Takeshi?"

There was silence. I wondered what was going through her mind. I'd been so careful not to sound angry, merely curious. But I could almost hear how she had tensed up. There would be a layer of ice in her eyes, preventing anyone from seeing her emotions. I heard a soft voice in the background, and knew that it was Takeshi's. Finally, she sighed.

"I don't want to lie to you, Hasumi-senpai." It sounded like she began to fiddle with the phone cord...but Sumire never fidgeted. "It's...complicated. I don't want you to misunderstand."

"What are you trying to say?" A faint hint of anger; I couldn't stop it. Complicated? What could she possibly mean by that?

"I assume from that question that you know that he isn't my cousin." A beat of silence, and then, quite calmly, "He lives with me." Her words hit me like a bucket of ice water. Those words meant that he was as familiar with her as I wished to be. That she allowed _him_ the small intimacies that she denied me. Her boyfriend.

All I could do was hang the phone up.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Sumire collapsed to her knees, receiver still in her hand. As I gently pried it away from her, I could hear the beep that signaled an ended call. "Sumire-chan?" My voice was so soft, so careful. The tone that I used whenever she was wearing that look - the sick, hurting, pain filled look. The comfort that it represented unleashed her tears.

She threw herself at me, nearly knocking me over. When she finished sobbing, her fingers tightened in my hair. "I told him." Her voice was muffled against my shoulder, my shirt soaked in her tears.

"I heard." I rubbed her back, not knowing what to say. This was a moment that I never dreamed would actually happen. I hadn't expected her to tell Hasumi the truth, after all the time and energy she'd spent lying to him. "Why?"

She shifted, moving closer and running her thin fingers through my curls. "I don't know. I think because I'm tired of lying. Of being scared of having to choose. Hasumi-senpai - he asked what our relationship was. He saw us after the show. And all I could think of to say was - was - " Voice thick, she choked on a sniffle and fell silent.

"What did he say?" When she didn't respond, I knew he'd hung up. Part of me was rejoicing, thinking about having her all to myself again. But the rest of me wished that she didn't have to be sad. She'd chosen me over her first love, and that meant more to me than anything in the world. "Sumire-chan?"

She looked up at me, tears hanging like crystals from her lashes. Hasumi had never seen her like this. "I don't know. Don't ask me anything. I never knew what I would do if I had to choose. Now I do. But I don't know _why_ I chose the way I did." She looked so beautiful with confusion softening her. I was the only one she had ever allowed to see her this way, the only one allowed to see her this way, and that was beautiful too. I cupped her cheek, brushing a tear-trail away.

"Don't you?" I sounded strangely older to my own ears, but I kept pushing. This was my one chance. "Would you ever let Hasumi see you like this? Would you ever be comfortable enough with him to watch wrestling or take silly walks or just _laugh_?" She was blinking up at me as I knelt, one of the few positions that allowed me to be taller. Height didn't matter to me, but I did decide to take advantage. I leaned down and kissed her. "I love you, Sumire-chan." Miraculously, she didn't hit me. "I don't want to ever leave you."

"Pets shouldn't - "

"I love you. Let me try to make you happy." I kissed her again, cutting off whatever she'd been about to say, and slowly, she melted against me. Her arms slid around me, her fingers still in my hair, and she kissed me back. It was the sweetest moment of my life. I felt as though I were flying; not even dance could compare to this.

It didn't matter if in the morning she went to Hasumi and tried to explain. It didn't matter if things went back to the way they had been before tonight. It didn't matter if I didn't receive anything more from her this night than a willing kiss.

All that mattered to me was in my arms, yielding for the first time to my desperate plea.

 


End file.
